We Can Be Divine
by Machlassie
Summary: Seven years he has waited - waited for the time when the Gods would deliver him his retribution. Years of wallowing in self despair, of seeing her face, and his crime played out, behind shut eyelids, he was prepared to accept whatever fate had for him. But while he sees his soul tar black, another, and many more, see a glimmer of light hidden beneath his cold, hardened exterior...


**Chapter I: Hell's Passageway**

It all started with her.

Ke'ri…

Born in Chon'sin, much like himself, she was just a simple girl of humble beginnings. Her parents were mere laborers; working day in and day out only to earn just enough to throw food on the table for a single night. It was a tale many of those in the slums were familiar with, but for a few, the story gets better. Every few months, the king's vassal would arrive to the town and offer a position of a court lady to those girls whose appearances stood out.

Ke'ri was not one of these girls. With her frail, curve-less figure adorned with weathered garbs, faded black hair, and pale skin, she blended in with the masses that populated the slums. They saw nothing special in her. In their eyes, all they saw was an impoverished girl, plain and bland to the very soul. Everyone, whether they be rich or poor, couldn't see much in her which made this young man believe that perhaps he was blessed with a superior set of eyes.

While the others around him disregarded her, he saw a light that everyone else seemed to be blind to… He saw in her the light of life. While others were simply going through the daily routines of trying to survive the day, she was living. She had dreams and wishes, a desire to fulfill. She was a diamond in a beach full of rhinestones… She was blazing with fire, a torch burning with life…

A torch whose flame would one day burn out…

**~XxxxxxxxxxxX~**

The sudden jolt of the wagon caused Lon'qu to slowly peel open his eyelids, the raucous gently arousing him from his light slumber and greeting his nose with the odor of hay and droppings that had been forgotten during his nap. Despite being asleep for only a few minutes, the air around him had changed. The bit of sunlight that peeked in between the metal bars was a deep orange, a sign that it was either dusk or dawn. The swordsman couldn't recall. To him, being locked in a cage for the past seven years, there was only nighttime, the sun being a once-in-a-lifetime blessing.

Along with the change in sunlight, the temperature had also dropped, causing goose bumps to grow along his bare arms. Having been born and raised in Chon'sin up until his adolescence, he had grown accustomed to the cold, preferring the chilly air to the summer heat of Plegia. But nowadays, the cold only seemed to bring about memories that were just as barren and unkind as the landscapes it produced. The sunspot just a few feet from him beckoned for him to settle in its rays, but he refused the offer, choosing to remain in the cold damp corner.

He cast his eyes downwards to where his hands rested. Metal chains and cuffs kept his wrists bound; bruising and scarring the tissue beneath it. They served as a reminder of his past sins, of the single life he took that led him to his current state. This was his retribution for his crime and, from the very moment the snow was stained red with that young lady's blood, he accepted it as long as she could rest in peace.

The wagon continued on its trek for another hour in silence; the sunlight gradually fading with each passing minute. Within two or three more hours, they would be blanketed in darkness. If that should prove right, then their destination must be nearby as Lon'qu doubted his coach would want to spend the night in the middle of nowhere with a hardened criminal as his only company.

He shut his eyes, planning to nap for the rest of the trip, but was ultimately startled awake as the stallions pulling the cart released a whinny and the carriage was thrown about, resulting in the prisoner being tossed about against the walls. "Out of the way!" The driver had called out seconds before he steered haphazardly. Before Lon'qu could comprehend what had happened, the coach, probably rightfully outraged, yelled out, "What the hell's your problem woman?!"

The term "woman" made Lon'qu flinch as he returned himself into an upright position. Through the weathered down walls of the wagon, he heard a meek voice say, "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Her footsteps were so light, Lon'qu's keen sense of hearing couldn't catch her approaching, but when she spoke next, her voice sounded as if she was just on the other side of him.

"We're fine." The man tried to wave her off, anxiety lacing his voice as he watched her near his cargo. "Just what were you thinking jumping into the middle of the road like that?"

"I'm so sorry! I can be rather clumsy and I must've just… stumbled…" She replied lamely.

There was a slight pause then as the Plegian man eyed the woman up and down, wondering if he could take her word or if she was simply boozed. With the cloak she had covering her head, he couldn't get much of a look at her face and determine if there was any deception behind her eyes. Eventually he gave the reins a gentle flick and released a huff. "The ground does get icy this time of year," he patronized, "Watch your step from now on."

"Oh, um, of course," she bowed her head. "Thank you."

As the wagon went about its course, the violet eyes of the young lady followed it. It was not often Ferox received outsiders, especially now since the war broke out between Plegia and Ylisse; travel was far too dangerous and one could easily be mistaken as an enemy. Tightening her cloak about her, she decided to ponder the thought at a later time. Right now, the sky was beginning to drop tiny snowflakes from the heavens and if she didn't make it home in time she would be trekking through a good foot of snow.

**~XxxxxxxxxxxX~**

Upon returning home, Olivia was greeted with a smash as a bottle of mead met with the floor, the raucous of laughter laced with booze, and the usual banter between Basilio, the owner of this tavern, and his wife, Flavia. She knew little of what they were arguing over back behind their counter there, but as odd as it seemed, Olivia preferred to come home to their voices shouting to and fro. The pub would seem just a tad emptier if they weren't. Indeed though, it was a wonder how they were still together…

Their faces were near pressed together when Olivia caught sight of them. Basilio, towering a good foot above his wife, stared her down with a menacing glare. Old as he was, he was a well of wisdom. Originally a soldier for the Feroxi Kahns, he decided to settle for the simpler life and put together this guild where the hopeless and homeless, in Olivia's case it would be the latter, could have a place to consider home. He was a true representative of Feroxi ancestry so despite the kindness he emitted, one would be a fool to cross him. Even with a single eye, his glare never failed to silence and strike fear into the grown men that often misbehaved in his tavern.

But Flavia was not a force to be reckoned with either. Despite being a tad shorter than her dear ol' hubby, she definitely wasn't lacking in the height department when compared to other women. She was blessed with an athlete's body, one-hundred percent slender muscle, while also possessing a well-endowed chest and sharp curves that represented her womanly side. Sharp tongue and witty nature, should their ever be a gamble on who would win in an argument, one could bet their entire life savings on her without a single doubt.

"Don't think too hard," Flavia sneered, pressing her nose closer to his, "You may sprain your brain…"

At this, Basilio's nostrils flared, displaying his obvious frustration. "Keep talking woman. Someday you'll say something intelligent."

"Oh, so a thought crossed your mind just now? It must have been a long and lonely journey."

They continued like this for another few minutes, each one trying to best the other while Olivia, who had now settled down near the fireplace, discarding her cloak on the coat rack, waited patiently for them to finish. One would be a fool to step in between their squabble. It was one thing to have them arguing with each other, but a whole other thing when they ganged up to yell at you. It would definitely lower your morale and forget about the idea of having any self-pride afterwards.

As she waited, the aroma of bread baking wafted through the air and found its way into her nostrils. Though Flavia was handy with an axe, her skills with a rolling pin and kitchen knife were equally up to par. Having not had a bite since she left for her walk through town hours ago, her stomach yearned for its share.

Pulling away from Basilio for a brief second, Flavia caught sight of the blossom-haired girl for the first time since her return and acknowledged her. "Ah, Olivia. When did you get back?" As if they hadn't been bickering just seconds before, Basilio turned to the oven and pulled out the golden loaf while Flavia went about preparing the roasted rabbit and potatoes. "Come take a seat," she called over, "You must be starving."

Olivia couldn't resist the tempting offer and within seconds found herself seated at the bar, the two lovers setting her dinner before her. As usual, the dish was piled high with meat and hardly a speck of green was to be seen. A traditional Feroxi dinner. "And don't forget something to wash it all down," Basilio said, slamming a brimming tankard down beside her meal. "Ferox's best ale!"

Olivia stared at all of it in awe, wondering where she should take her first bite. "I… appreciate it…" She replied, slyly pushing away the booze before it spilled into her mashed potatoes. She wasn't one for drink, being the natural lightweight she was, but she feared the reaction she would receive should she let Flavia and Basilio find out. Feroxis took pride in a lot of things, but their mead was definitely listed in their top five.

The night continued on in carefree abandon but slowly, as the hours ticked away, the noise, banter, and laughter began to subside. The tavern's number of occupants had been cut in half; those remaining now lying on benches, tables, and the ground in a deep sleep. Of course the room was left appearing as if a tornado had gone through and the only ones left to pick up after them were the only two left awake.

"Sheesh," Basilio grumbled, making his way over the unconscious bodies littering the floor, "What are we, their parents?"

Flavia, who had just deposited a load of tankards and dishes into the wash basin, caught sight of Olivia with her head resting against the counter as she peacefully slept away. Unlike the others, she had done her share of chores as the bar she rested upon was nice and tidy. Flavia rested her hand upon the girl's cheek and brushed away a few wisps of stray hair that tickled her nose. She passed her a smile and whispered to her still-grumbling husband, "I'm sure to some of them, we are…"

Basilio stopped in his steps and stared at his wife. Her face was all gentleness as she pampered to Olivia like a mother would to her daughter. The sight of her in such a nurturing state made him wince as he forced himself to turn away. "I'm gonna' call it a night," Flavia said, proceeding to take Olivia into a piggyback position. "You coming, oaf?"

"And leave the place like this?" He gave his tavern another look over. Tables and chairs were still overturned, spills that were still in need of being cleaned, and loads of kegs and dishes that still needed to be gathered littered his pride and joy. Regardless, Flavia watched him discard the towel he was using to clean a table and begin making his way up the stairs. "I'll put the boys to work tomorrow…" He yawned as he beat her up to their shared bedroom.

Tucked beneath her down blankets Olivia shivered as the bitter cold wind beat against the walls of her room. After Flavia had delivered her to her bed she had failed to fall back into peaceful slumber as the cold continued to nip at her skin. Blizzards were a common occurrence here in the north where there was hardly any other season but winter, but it never stopped Olivia from enjoying a good night's rest. Yet tonight, the cold seemed abnormally unbearable and through her restless night, she dreamt of the wagon she had encountered earlier that day…

**~XxxxxxxxxxxX~**

The wagon didn't reach its destination until the late hours of the night, a little past midnight. They parked beneath a canvas covering supported by crisscrossing branches. That the structure was still standing against this blizzard was a miracle.

"So you made it, eh?" Lon'qu heard a voice from outside call. "Glad to see the weather didn't get to ya'!"

The driver scoffed as he hopped off his seat, his boots meeting with the snow. "Who the hell does Gangrel think he is, making me travel to this Godforsaken place with this luggage?"

"I wouldn't let him hear that if I were you…" The other man chuckled lightly as he rounded the wagon to reach the back. "Now how about you take the horses to the barn while I take care of the rest?" There was a gentle rustling of chains as the mares were taken from their reins and the sound of crunching snow as they were led away. The remaining man fiddled with the padlock keeping the wagon gates closed. With all the noise, Lon'qu could bet he was trying to guess which key he had went in. There came a "Aha!" from the other side and soon the doors were pulled open, revealing a soldier donned in red at the entrance.

"D'you enjoy the trip?" He asked with a cold grin on his face. He boarded the wagon to approach Lon'qu who had yet to peer at the man. The man squatted down so he was level with the prisoner and eyed him with the curiosity of a cat. Lon'qu had yet to response. "Not much of a talker, eh? Well that's alright; we didn't bring you here for your pretty voice." He gripped the cuffs that bound Lon'qu and hauled him to his feet. Resting his hand on the scruff of his neck he roughly led him outside where they were greeted with a blast of cold air.

Lon'qu couldn't distinguish much through the sheets of white that blew around him, but he had no doubts that their current location was nowhere near any inhabited villages. His escort allowed him the chance to study his surroundings, even introducing him to the area. "What you see is Feroxi land; a frozen hell made just for the barbarians who thrive here." He smirked as he leaned down and whispered, "If you listen closely enough… Through all the howling of the wind, you can hear the cries of the deceased…"

Lon'qu wanted to ignore him, shrug off his words as a pitiful attempt to strike fear into him. Until he heard them… Distinct cries that echoed through the air. Twisting his head to the general direction of the noise, Lon'qu's eyes widened in shock at what he had suddenly set his sights upon. It was a mighty tunnel formed from rocks and mud, lit up by torches that stood their ground against the fierce weather. From this tunnel was where the cries echoed.

"So you see it now," the soldier smirked. He gave Lon'qu a push, signaling him to proceed forward. "Grima's Court."

"G-Grima…?!" For the first time, Lon'qu spoke up, immediately garnering the attention of the guard.

"Surprised to hear the name outside of Plegia?" He chuckled darkly, "You'd be amazed at how many followers Grima has gained over the course of the years. Courts like these are being built all throughout the country; right beneath the noses of these Naga-worshipping Ylisseans." He then gave Lon'qu a rough push, sending him crashing into the snow.

He pushed himself up by his chained forearms and ended up gazing into the dark tunnel that seemed to have no end. It was like a passageway to hell, in which the cries of the forsaken would accompany you. He felt the soldier's boot land on his lower back and his dangerously cold voice whisper, "And it will be in this court that you will be tried and punished by Grimleal Law. For your sake, pray that Grima will see you innocent…"

He had evaded death for so long, he wondered when the Gods would cast their judgment upon him. Thinking back on it now, perhaps he was turning to too merciful of Gods as the one who waited on the other end of this tunnel, Grima, was more than willing to grant him the punishment he deserved. Lon'qu shut his eyes, letting the moans fill his ears. For the blood on his hands and the life that sat upon his shoulders, it was indeed a fitting end. And if this meant she could finally rest in peace…

"Then so be it…"

The prisoner, bound and chained, took his first step into the passageway. The torches that lit up the chamber crackled beside him, but with one gust of wind they were blown out, leaving him to walk the path in complete darkness…

**Chapter I: END**

**A/N: Thanks for giving this chapter a read! Honestly, I didn't even want to make this story because let's be honest; with my track record, when am I going to finish it? But I had a lot of inspiration go into this plot and I feel it'd be a waste if I didn't do something with it. And c'mon, it has Flavia/Basilio romance! Well, while I'm on a roll I'm going to start the next chapter, so see you at the next update! (Hopefully in the next few weeks…)**


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